The predawn air felt heavier than ever. A cold wind rolled in from the north, carrying the metallic scent of iron and smoke. Luke stood staring at the fortress, its walls reduced to dark silhouettes against a sky smothered in clouds, tension tightening in his chest.

Bartholomew had disabled the first mechanism during the night, a calculated move that lured the Midnight Wardens back to this point. The Safe Zone, once a sanctuary for families and fighters alike, now burned beneath their relentless assault.

"That bastard still had a card up his sleeve," Quinn muttered, his voice steeped in venom.

They had gathered outside the fortress in a loose half-circle around the soldiers, who stumbled over their explanations of the chaos unfolding elsewhere.

"And why should we even help?" a voice demanded from within the crowd, slicing through the heavy silence.

"I've said it from the start," Roy answered, face grim. "We didn't betray anyone. We thought we were sending reinforcements, not selling you out."

The story was brutal in its simplicity. Bartholomew had called the Safe Zone's soldiers and fighters to arms under the pretext of an imminent bandit attack on both bases. But the promise was a trap. Kruger, Bartholomew's right hand, had led the forces supposedly protecting the Haven, the same ones who'd ambushed the group at the capital gates.

From the soldiers' point of view, both Safe Zones were supposed to be protected. No one should have abandoned their posts with the risk of attack so high. But it had all been a game. Bartholomew stripped the Haven of its defenders to work with the bandits, letting them seize the fortress while Luke and the others were gone.

"If the plan had worked, it would've been genius," Mason said, staring at the ground. "We'd have died to Kruger and no one would know the truth. Then Bartholomew would betray the bandits, save the Safe Zone, wipe them out, and rule both."

Luke said nothing, chewing over the revelation.

This guy's insane. Insane, but brilliant.

"Are you going to help us or not?" one of the soldiers asked, his voice trembling between plea and command.

"I am," Ronan said firmly. "I can't abandon those people."

He was already rising, armor clicking into place.

"Without a plan?" Allison raised an eyebrow.

"Do we have time to make one?" Ronan shot back.

The clock was against them. By six a.m., the Wardens would retreat to their lairs, but until then hundreds could die.

"That's exactly what he wants," Allison murmured, thoughtful.

"You think I don't see that?" Ronan's reply was sharp. "He set this up to kill us. Survive Kruger's ambush, come home to find our fortress taken, spend our resources, even mana, to take it back. We got lucky with Luke wiping the fortress alone, but we're still spent. Now he stirs chaos in the Safe Zone to drag us out. We're weak, low on mana, tired, HP bleeding. I see his plan: kill us now that we're weak."

Luke drew a steady breath and opened his system interface.

Name: Luke Level: 50 Race: Half-Demon Rank: F Class: [Demonic Predator (Lvl 60)] Profession: [Guardian Botanist of Mother Freya (Lvl 60)] Titles: [Dark Lord] Bloodline: [Bloodline of the Dark Demon] Health Points (HP): 1986/4340 Mana Points (MP): 735/(5100) Stamina: 1742/(2950) Soul Fragments: 195/1000

Stats: Strength: 691 Agility: 499 (549) Endurance: 275 (295) Vitality: 434 Perception: 458 (468) Intelligence: 505 (510) Free Points: 0

Class Skills: [Advanced Blade Handling (Uncommon)], [Profane Knife Throwing (Uncommon)], [Twin Blade (Common)], [Basic Dark Dash (Rare)], [Basic Blood Regeneration (Rare)], [Predator's Mark (Rare)], [Demonic Blade Dance (Rare)], [Wraith Form (Ultra-Rare)], [Force Infusion (Rare)], [Advanced Stealth (Rare)], [Assassin's Tracking (Rare)], [Mana Infusion (Rare)], [Basic Archery (Common)], [Demonic Predator Hands (Epic)]

Profession Skills: [Herbology of Mother Freya (Ancient)], [Precise Extraction (Common)], [Basic Potion Crafting (Common)], [Corrupted Plant Growth (Rare)], [Plant Sensor (Uncommon)], [Botanical Bond of Mother Freya (Rare)], [Seed Conversion (Rare)], [Plant Manipulation of Mother Freya (Rare)], [Corrupted Blood of Mother Freya (Ultra-Rare)], [Thorn Mutation (Uncommon)], [Soil Analysis (Uncommon)], [Botanical Purification (Uncommon)], [Acid Blood Arrow (Epic)]

Race Skills: [Identify (Common)], [Demonic Perception (Uncommon)], [Dark Blood (Uncommon)], [Meditation (Common)], [Demonic Endurance (Uncommon)]

Rank Skill: [Soul Infiltration (Rank F)]

Bloodline Skill: [Servant of the Dark Lord (Unique)] Servants: [Princess Charlie (Skeleton) - Lvl 42], [Servant Slot Available]

I burned too much mana in that ambush, Luke thought. I can barely trigger my best skills now.

Even before the attack, he'd drained every mana potion the group had left with Jack and had even handed over his remaining five 150-HP healing potions. Their supplies were gone. Bartholomew had played it perfectly, going all-in that night.

At least Luke still had a full quiver with twenty arrows. But in terms of resources, he was running on fumes. His HP and mana were low. Jack had burned through all his mana healing everyone after the ambush; now he sat in Meditation, barely able to restore even a hundred HP to anyone. Luke could see the crossroads they were standing at. Bartholomew was sowing chaos to rack up more deaths.

This guy wants to cripple us before we can finish the tutorial. Whoever survives the attack will be too traumatized to try anything. Waiting until six a.m. isn't an option.

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The assault had already been going on for at least an hour—enough time for a wounded survivor from the ambush to stagger back and warn them the group had returned. To the soldiers, Luke's team was their last hope. To Bartholomew, their arrival triggered the next stage of his plan.

Am I really going to have to storm Bastion like this?

He dismissed the system interface with a flick of his hand and looked around. Every face reflected exhaustion, but also grim resolve.

"I'm going to activate the first mechanism," he said, pulling Angelica's bow from his inventory and slinging it across his shoulder.

Evangeline raised her spear, hands steady despite the dark circles under her eyes.

"No plan?" Quinn asked, voice uncertain.

"When have things ever been easy for us?" Evangeline shot back with a dry laugh. "Don't forget your friends are still hostages."

"I know," Quinn muttered, torn between fear and hope. "But you're the strongest we've got. If you die, it's over — for us and the Haven. Bartholomew wins."

Luke's gaze slid to Ronan, his expression hardening. "Tell me everything you know about Bartholomew's skills."

Mason raised a hand before Ronan could answer. "We've got a bigger problem than Bartholomew," he said.

Allison exhaled slowly, eyes narrowing. "Erza Grimhart."

***

"Bartholomew and Kruger handled the poisons," Eleanor said as they ran into the forest. Boots struck the wet earth with a drumbeat thud. "Kruger had the Poison Manipulator profession at max level."

They already knew this, but repetition worked like probing a wound — they needed to trace the enemy's edge before cutting into it.

Bartholomew had mana to spare. Luke didn't. His companions could barely trigger epic skills. Reaching him would be dangerous; fighting him, even more so.

"He'll be near the mechanism for sure," Mason said, breath ragged as he ran. "He won't let anyone get close."

They were burning stamina to push harder, a resource almost as precious as mana. Luke recalled Princess Charlie into his soul, keeping her as his trump card against Bartholomew.

"I don't know anyone else who's awakened a poison-focused profession besides Kruger and Bartholomew," Ronan said.

The forest grew denser with each step. Branches clawed at their arms, damp air thick with the scent of old wood and river mist. They hugged the riverbank, avoiding the cliff and the city beyond.

"It's a rare profession," Mason said. "You don't just wake up with it. Takes study, books, practice."

"He probably got the knowledge from Bastion's library," Evangeline commented. "Back then we were system rookies, but we already knew that if you dedicated yourself to something, there was a chance of awakening the profession. He probably grabbed books about poison there, and he and Kruger became the only ones with that knowledge."

Luke had a few antidotes left. His most powerful came from the blood of the Beast Lord:

[Antidote of Jormungandr (Ultra-Rare)]: An extremely powerful antidote, crafted from a rare sample of blood taken from a Jormungandr hatchling. Its effect grants total immunity to any kind of physical or magical poison for a limited time, rendering the user invulnerable to toxins, gases, and poisonous substances. However, its effectiveness has limits: poisons of mythical or higher origin remain beyond its protection.

He knew he couldn't rely on Mother Freya's Blood like he had against Kruger. Bartholomew was different. Ironic to think his original class had been healer.

"Bartholomew was an Alchemist," Ronan said between heavy breaths. "At least before the mutation and his evolution at level fifty. I don't know what he is now, but alchemy is the base. His epic skill is called Venomous Radiation. His body excretes a transparent gas through his pores. That's how he killed Marshall. And he pairs it with an ultra-rare skill that generates a plague cloud."

An enemy spreading poison and disease at the same time — a walking chemical and biological weapon.

"And his class epic?" Allison asked without slowing.

Ronan hesitated. "I don't know. Not his class epic, not his rank epic. But it's safe to assume it's disease-based."

Luke flicked a glance at his own HP bar hovering at the edge of his vision.

[Health Points (HP): 1986/4340]

The smart move would have been to wait, recover mana and HP, plan. But Luke knew Bartholomew was sabotaging the final mission. The more people who died to the Wardens, the better for him.

"So his epic and rank skills are unknown," Mason said, his tone analytical.

"They're probably aligned," Evangeline replied. "As long as we don't get too close, maybe we can avoid the effects. Same goes for his crown. It shocks anyone who tries."

Behind them trudged fighters from the Haven. Jack had stayed back to guard the fortress, meditating without a drop of mana left. Knowing Bartholomew, there was every chance another strike was already on its way to that position.

"That woman, Erza, gives me chills," Eleanor said, breaking the silence. "Every time I've gotten near her, my skin crawled."

Luke glanced at Ronan. "You willing to deal with her? Your fiancée's at her side. Would you strike?"

Ronan's brow furrowed, but his answer came steady. "Erza Grimhart cut a deal with Bartholomew. She gets whatever privileges she wants, no obligations. In return, if Bastion's invaded, she moves to defend it. That's why Bartholomew let Marshall in. While she's in the fortress, he's under her protection."

"So she'll be there waiting for us," Mason said, eyes fixed ahead.

"Any chance of convincing her to switch sides?" Eleanor asked.

"A deal is a deal," Allison said firmly. "If someone like her gave her word, she'll keep it."

Facing Erza Grimhart and Bartholomew under those conditions felt like walking into a monster's lair unarmed.

"Leave her to me," Allison said. "I know how to stop her. I'm the only one who can."

Luke pulled Kruger's mask from his storage item and tossed it to her:

[Mask of the Assassin of Lakarion (Rare)

Description: Bestowed only upon those who have been accepted into the Order of Assassins of the mighty Lakarion, God of Assassination. This mask symbolizes a silent oath to the shadows and the blade. To wear it is an honor earned by few. To lose it, for any reason, is considered treason. Punishable by death, by a brother's hand.

Enchantments: [Shadow Vision (Rare)]: Grants perfect vision in total darkness, as if it were broad daylight.]

"If you're going to talk to her, giving this back at least gets her on your side," Luke said.

Among everyone in the tutorial, only one person matched Erza in nobility, and that was Allison. Both were daughters of a king and of the World Government. If Allison was confident she could at least open a conversation, then it was possible. Whatever deal the World Government had, these people protected one another and saw everyone beneath them as inferior except themselves, and that extended to their children as well.

***

After long minutes of running, the sounds of the Safe Zone reached them before the walls came into view, a mix of screams, steel, and splintering wood, punctuated by the distant roar of flames. The wind carried smoke and ash, the bitter smell of destruction.

When they broke through the last line of trees, the scene opened up. Part of the Safe Zone was burning; wooden structures collapsed in smoldering chunks. Shards of glass, blood, and broken weapons littered the ground like pieces on a chaotic game board.

And then, in the heart of that inferno, red eyes flickered in the shadows, Midnight Wardens. Humanoid creatures in black armor, curved blades gleaming, moving in packs with predator discipline.

"We killed plenty of them taking the fortress," Allison said loudly enough for everyone to hear.

"And we'll kill more," Evangeline added, shifting her grip on the spear.

The group instinctively fell into formation, creating a crescent to shield the weaker fighters. Haven combatants poured in behind them, forming an improvised second line. Determination outweighed resources.

Luke scanned the battlefield. Wardens and Bastion soldiers fought side by side, struggling to hold the perimeter. If they stayed here, they'd lose the one window to stop Bartholomew.

"Split up!" Ronan ordered. "Main force helps the soldiers and wipes out the Wardens. Core team goes straight for the fortress, kills Bartholomew, and reactivates the mechanism."

Quick glances were exchanged. No one argued the improvised plan. It was all or nothing.

Luke drew a steady breath, feeling the bow's weight in his hands. Every fiber of his body screamed exhaustion, but his heart pounded with a savage rhythm. If they didn't stop Bartholomew now, the final mission would collapse before it even began.

They surged forward, breaking off as planned. The ground trembled beneath their boots, a herald of the battle about to ignite. This was the last stage before the final mission, and the fate of everyone hinged on what they did in that moment.

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